


Dear Peter Parker

by TheDumbestAvenger



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dear Evan Hansen References, F/M, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man), and, author is projecting onto characters again, but peter doesn't see it at first, depressed flash thompson, like a lot of them, obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDumbestAvenger/pseuds/TheDumbestAvenger
Summary: Sometimes a lie is cancelling plans even though you have nothing else on, or pretending to be out when the doorbell rings. And sometimes a lie is accidentally letting one of the most famous families in the world think you were best friends with their late son.For the first time, Peter feels like he's found his place, found where he belongs. But when everything is built on lies, it's only a matter of time until it crumbles to the ground. Especially when the whole world is watching.OrPeter has anxiety and Tony adopts him.The Dear Evan Hansen AU nobody asked for but I wrote anyway
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24





	1. Just be Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> *Warning* - Suicide, suicidal thoughts, and depression are major themes throughout this whole fic, please be careful reading <3

_ Dear Peter Parker, _

_ Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why: because today all you have to do is just be yourself. But also confident, that’s important, and also interesting and easy to talk to and approachable, but mostly just be yourself. That’s the big one, like, the Number One thing is ‘be true to yourself’. _

_ Also, though, don’t worry about whether your hands are going to get sweaty for absolutely no reason and you can’t make it stop no matter what you do. Because they’re not going to get sweaty. I don’t even know why you’re bringing it up in the first place because it’s not going to happen. _

_ You’re not going to worry about it. _

_ Seriously. _

_ It’s not going to be like that time when you had the perfect chance to introduce yourself to MJ at the Academic Decathlon Competition at the end of last year, and you waited outside just to tell her how good she was. You were going to pretend to be, like, super cool and casual, like you didn’t even know her name. She’d introduce herself, and you’d be like ‘I’m sorry, did you say your name was MK?’ And then she’d correct you like, ‘No, I said MJ’ and you’d have been like ‘Oh, sorry. I’m just so busy with all this other stuff right now…’ _

_ But then you didn’t end up saying anything to her because you were scared that your hands were sweaty. They weren’t even that sweaty until you started thinking about it anyway. So then you put them in the hand dryer in the bathroom, which didn’t help at all. They were still sweaty, just very warm now as well- _

Peter slammed shut his laptop and shoved it to the end of his bed, curling his legs up to his chest and hugging them close, eyes squeezed shut.

The letters were supposed to be positive, that’s why Doctor Sherman had given him the assignment to write them. Daily pep talks to himself. In reality they tended to end up fake, pulled from the furthest reaches of his imagination just to make them presentable during his appointments.

He reached into his bedside drawer and grabbed a box of Avitan, promptly swallowing one with a mouthful of water.

That was the problem with the letters, he could start off alright -  _ dear Peter Parker, today is going to be a good day and here’s why _ \- but it never took more than a few sentences to drift off track and wander into the parts of his brain he’d simply rather not. See: the sweaty hands rant.

“Knock knock,” May’s muffled voice dragged Peter from his thoughts.

“Yeah, come in.”

May walked in, casually holding a twenty-dollar bill between her first and middle finger. “So, you just decided not to eat last night?”

“I wasn’t hungry.” Peter looked down, picking at fluff on the cast covering his left wrist and forearm.

“You’re a senior in high school, Peter. You need to be able to order dinner for yourself.” She didn’t sound angry, maybe just a little disappointed. Though she tried her best to hide it. “You can do it all online now, don’t need to talk to anyone. I know you don’t like the phone.”

Peter met her eye. “But, see, that’s not true, actually. You still have to talk to the delivery person when they come to the door and they have to make change. You’re just standing there while it’s silent and they’re counting it out and-”

“Okay,  _ this _ is what you’re supposed to be working on with Doctor Sherman.” She came further inside. “Talking to people, engaging, not running away from everyone.”

He was trying. It’s not like he wasn’t trying, but there was this barrier in his head that he just couldn’t pull himself over. Even with all the help in the world.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Honey. I know you’re trying.”

It was probably just in his head, but it sounded like an accusation. Like she thought he wasn’t doing enough. Peter swung his legs over the bed and pulled on his shoes, avoiding the need to reply. 

“Speaking of Doctor Sherman, I made you an appointment with him after school today.”

“Today? Why? I’m seeing him next week anyway.”

“I know.” May looked down at the twenty-dollars in her hand. “I just thought you could use one a smidge sooner, that’s all.” She perched next to him and tapped his leg. “Have you been writing those letters to yourself? ‘Today is going to be a good day, and here’s why…?’ You know he’ll be expecting one.”

Truthfully, Peter had slacked with the letters over summer. They didn’t seem to be working, so he didn’t see the point of carrying on. “I, uh…” He pointed towards his abandoned laptop, glad not to lie for once. “I started one.”

May sighed, looking discouraged.

“I’ll finish it at school,” Peter blurted, praying that expression would disappear.

Someone must have been listening because May smiled. “Those letters are going to help you build your confidence.” She put on a deep voice and clasped her fists. “To seize the day! Especially one your first day at school.”

That confirmed just why May thought he’d need an extra session, then.

“I guess…”

“I just don’t want another year of you sitting at home on your computer every Friday night.”

“Well, neither do I.”

“I know.” May patted his leg. “Maybe this year can be our new start.”

Peter scoffed, he couldn’t help it. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s that easy.”

“Come on, Honey. Don’t give up before you’ve even tried. Promise me you’ll give it a go. The world’s not going to fall apart if you do.”

“Okay.”

May stood, her smile growing, and she looked around the room. Her gaze settled on something on his desk. “Hey, I know.” She picked out a sharpie from the cup. “You could ask the other kids at school to sign your cast. Wouldn’t that be the perfect ice breaker?”

No. Not even close. He might as well just walk around wearing a sign saying ‘Please be my Friend’ for all the good that would do. May must have seen what he was thinking on his face because her smile fell away and she shrugged. “Oh well. I just thought it might be a nice idea.”

God, she looked so sad. May didn’t get to smile enough.

“No, no. It is. It’s… Perfect.”

Well, at least she was smiling again. “That’s awesome.” May presented the sharpie, which Peter begrudgingly took with a forced smile of his own, and walked towards the door. Just when Peter thought he was in the clear, she turned around. “I’m proud of you already.”

“Oh…” Peter rubbed a hand on the back of his head. “That’s, um… That’s good. Thanks.”

“I mean every word.” She pointed towards the little box on his bedside table. “You good on refills?”

“Yeah.”

This time, May did leave and closed the door behind her. Peter checked the time on his phone. He still had a few minutes before he needed to head out for the bus. Grabbing his laptop, he reopened his letter and deleted everything about sweaty hands before hovering his fingers over the keys for a minute. Try as he might, no words came to his brain.

Sighing, he closed the lid again, ditched it on his desk, and headed out. 

The air had that humid feel that signified rain. Sure enough, Peter looked up to find the sun was hidden behind a layer of cloud, though it was trying its best to shine through nonetheless. ‘ _ Step out of the sun if you keep getting burned.’ _ He’d read that somewhere when he was younger, and the words embedded themselves in his soul. Sure, he’d been burned before, but May was right. This was a new year, a fresh start - kind of - so maybe,  _ maybe _ the sun would shine this time.

# #

Long before the Thanos, long before Iron Man, long before he’d even met Pepper, Tony knew he wanted kids. He wanted to fix his legacy, to put right his father’s mistakes and break the cycle of shame he’d started him on. Then, of course, a woman named Virginia Potts walked into his life, and the rest was history.

They adopted two kids, not biological siblings but they were all the other had in the world. And thus, Eugene and Michelle were quickly welcomed into their lives.

The first year of their new life was everything Tony imagined and more. The kids’ infectious laughter filled every room of their house, they spent weekends playing in parks or going to the cinema, they even had an appointment set with their social worker. Three had always been the number in Tony’s head.

And then there was the weapons presentation in Afghanistan that tore the family apart. Tony announced himself as Iron Man, almost died of palladium poisoning, fought aliens in New York, stopped a terrorist plot, destroyed a city, ripped the Avengers in half, went to space…

And lost.

He lost his kids. Both of them. Gone. And Pepper had to watch it happen. She held them in her arms and tried to comfort them as they turned to dust, wondering if she was going to go, too. Wondering if Tony already had.

She’d never seen a mixture of relief, hope, and fear so potent as the look in Tony’s eyes when he returned. She’d only seen the heart-wrenching pain that came next in her own reflection. And later, in the faces of everyone she passed in the streets.

After five years of deafening silence, staying cooped up in the house, and the thought of adopting another kid now a distant memory, Rogers turned up. His plan was stupid, idiotic, quite possibly suicidal, but Tony figured it out and off he went.

He thought he’d died, succumbed to the immense power of the stones. His last thought was of MJ and Flash, how they’d be back in Pepper’s arms - this time here to stay. And he was happy. Thanks to some sorcery from his new magician friend and countless doctors and nurses’ skilled work, Tony survived. And he was elated.

Their family was finally back together. 

But it was different. The kids had been through too much to comprehend, so it was no surprise that they were different to the first time they walked into the house in Malibu. It seemed the cycle of shame was hard to break after all.

Tony heard them talking before he even reached the kitchen.

“It’s your senior year, Flash. You’re not missing the first day,” Pepper said.

“I said I’d go tomorrow.” Flash shot back. “I’m trying to find a compromise here.”

Pepper looked up as Tony walked in. “You want to get involved?”

“You have to go to school, kiddo.” Tony pressed a quick kiss to Pepper’s forehead before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Uh…” Tony took a swig from the mug. “School’s important, you gotta graduate to get into college - if you want to go, no pressure here.” He turned to Pepper and flashed her a grin. “I mean, he knows all of this already. But Pep’s right, you can’t miss the first day, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” Flash growled.

MJ sat at the table opposite him, quietly eating a bowl of cereal while reading the book in her other hand. “He’s probably high,” she shrugged.

Flash’s eyes - Flash’s suspiciously red eyes - widened and he kicked her shin under the table. “Fuck you!” he yelled.

MJ looked up, “Fuck  _ you _ .”

“Hey,” Pepper cut over the top. “MJ, I don’t need you picking on your brother right now.”

MJ’s jaw fell slack. “Are you kidding-”

“Besides, he’s not high. Right, Flash?”

Flash kept his head down and didn’t reply. MJ just smirked, returning to her book.

Tony sighed. He walked over and squeezed Flash’s shoulders, though the kid twisted out of his grip. “We’ve talked about this, Flash. You shouldn’t be high at your age-”

“You were,” he snapped.

“How did you…?” Tony paused, casting a glance across to Pepper. She didn’t look too surprised.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the internet.”

Tony was about to comment when he caught Pepper’s gaze again. The look she gave him was unmistakable,  _ he doesn’t need Tony Stark, he needs his Dad. _ So Tony bit back the collection of sarcastic remarks already lined up in his head and returned to the matter at hand. “I’m not the role model I wish I was. We all know that. But you’re still too young to be high, and you definitely can’t go to  _ school  _ high-”

“Perfect,” Flash got to his feet, throwing his arms out in frustration. “So then I won’t go.” He stormed out of the room, yelling back one last, “Thanks, Dad.”

MJ picked up her bowl and stood as well, backing towards the door. “Yeah… I’m just going to take this, leave you two to it. I know what comes next by now.”

Tony listened for her footsteps going up the stairs before talking again. “Another masterful attempt ends with disaster.”

“You probably shouldn’t call our kids ‘disasters.’”

“No, I wasn’t calling them-” Tony waved his hand, knowing Pepper was just messing with him. “It doesn’t matter. I just…. I just hate watching us crash and burn after everything we’ve been through. Those kids deserve better.”

Pepper cupped a hand to his cheek. “We’ll get through this, okay? We always have. Just focus on the fact that we’re all here, all of us are together.”

“You’re right,” Tony leaned his forehead against Pepper’s, wrapping one hand around her waist. “As usual. How’d I end up with someone as smart as you?”

“I ask myself the same thing every day.”

“Hey!” Tony pulled away, mocking offence. “I was having a serious moment here.”

“Twelve percent of one.”

“Still not letting that one go?”

“Still not letting it go.”

Tony chuckled, taking a seat at the table. Pepper came over and joined him, munching on some toast that must have been cold by now. “I should leave,” he sighed, looking wistfully towards the stairs. “I don’t want to, but Rogers has had this meeting planned for a month. Plus Natasha wanted to take a look at the upgrades I made to her bite.”

Pepper pushed her plate of toast towards him. “Here, you’ve not eaten anything.”

“Forgive me for not sharing your cold bread.” The comment earned him a scowl from Pepper. “Don’t worry, I’ll make something when I get to the compound.” He leaned forward and kissed Pepper. “Love you. See you later.”

“Love you too.” Pepper watched him leave.

A few moments later, MJ came back down. She looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”

“Just left. You can catch him if you’re quick.”

MJ waved a hand, “Nah, it can wait. I’m gonna pack my back and head out. If Flash isn’t ready, I’m leaving without him.”

“Give him a couple minutes, Sweetie. I’m sure he’ll be ready.”

“Okay.” MJ kissed the top of Pepper’s head. “Only for you.” Then she was gone again, back up to her room.

Pepper closed her eyes and took a long breath, whispering to herself. “We’re together…”

# #

Peter kept his eyes down as he walked through Midtown Tech. All around, people were meeting friends they hadn’t seen all summer, laughing and hugging and showing off their new styles. Peter’s style’ was the same it had always been: a flannel shirt under a jumper, jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He had no idea where people learned what the new in-thing was, they just turned up at school and got showered with praise because of it.

The bus ride hadn’t been awful. He’d found a seat near the front and, thankfully, no one took the spare seat next to him, so there was no need for awkward small-talk or excruciating silence. But now he was in the building, surrounded by all these people who somehow knew exactly what they were supposed to do and say. At least he was invisible. Head down, walk fast, and nobody pays you any attention.

He made it to his locker and neatly stacked his books inside... then took them out and slowly rearranged them, taking up as much time as possible before the bell for homeroom rang. Hanging around wasn’t one of Peter's specialities. The longer he could waste time at his locker, the less he’d need to.

But now he’d been there for almost five minutes, and he was sure Brad had noticed and was now whispering about Peter’s weirdness in Jason’s ear. Peter shut his locker, spent a precious few seconds checking his phone - scrolling down the settings and randomly clicking on a few apps - before finally relenting and heading on his way again.

Where to go was the real question. He could circle around and return, hoping the other students there would also have moved on and not realise his plan. That was risky, though. Maybe he could just walk around until he found an empty corridor to loiter in.

“Hi, Peter,” someone called.

Peter jumped, his heart rate already picking up, and turns around to see-

“Betty, hey.”

“How was your summer?” she asked, a smile plastered across her face.

They’d been partnered for an English project at the end of last year. Apart from that, they’d never talked. Were they talking now?

“My summer?”

“Yeah. Mine was productive, I did three internships.” It sounded like a rehearsed script. Peter himself had tried running over conversations in his head again and again before trying them out in the real world. Now he knew how he sounded. “And ninety hours of community service.”

Peter swallowed. “That’s… Wow, that’s-”

“A lot, I know.” Betty tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her other hand clutching a stack of books to her chest. “I guess I like to keep busy.”

_ Seize the day. _ May’s words repeated in his head like witches chanting a spell around a cauldron. Oh what the hell, might as well try. “Did you wanna-” Peter thrust his hand into his jeans pocket and produced the sharpie. “-I’m so sorry. Did you maybe want to sign my cast-”

“Oh my god,” Betty exclaimed, “What happened to your arm?” 

She was too loud, now people were looking. Muttering. Probably about him.

“Well, I broke it. I was-”

“Oh, really? That must have hurt.” Betty’s smile didn’t waver, but she sounded genuinely concerned. Which was something.

“Yeah. A little.”

She looked down at her phone. “Sorry. I’ve got to go. Happy first day!” She turned around, her huge backpack knocking the sharpie from Peter’s hand. By the time he’d bent down and picked it up, Betty was gone, and Ned stood in her place.

“Hey, dude. What happened to you? I hardly heard from you all summer?”

“Oh, um, I was busy with the park ranger apprenticeship,” Peter said as they fell into their handshake.

“How’d it go? You enjoy it?”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Peter lifted his arm, showing his cast. “Could’ve ended better.”

“Woah,” Ned breathed. “What happened?”

“There was this fifty-foot oak tree -I’m kind of a tree expert now. It was beautiful and I just thought, well, why not climb it. So I did… and then I fell.”

“You fell out of a tree?”

“Yeah.”

“Like… an acorn?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Peter shrugged. “Except it’s a funny story though because after I fell there was a solid ten minutes where I just lay there, on the ground… Just waiting for someone to come and get me or something. Like to help me, ‘cause my arm was numb. And I kept thinking ‘any second now. One more second and someone’s gonna come.’”

Ned’s eyebrows knitted together. “Did they?”

“No! Nobody came… That’s- That’s the funny part.”

_ When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around, do you ever really crash or even make a sound. _

“...Jesus Christ.” Ned didn’t seem to think it was amusing. Neither did Peter, honestly, but usually when people do something sad - like lying under a tree with a broken arm for ten minutes waiting for help - people laugh. Just for once, Peter wanted to be on the inside of the joke, even if it were at his expense. “That sounds awful.”

“I mean… Yeah.” Peter cleared his throat, desperate to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m sorry. How was your summer?”

Ned’s eyes lit up. “Well my bunk dominated at capture the flag, plus I got a Lego Millennium Falcon for my birthday. It’s awesome.”

“That’s great.”

Once again, May’s words repeated in his head.  _ Seize the day. _ It hadn’t worked exactly as expected with Betty, but it also wasn’t a complete disaster. Besides, this was Ned. “Did you wanna sign my cast?”

“Sure, dude!” Ned took the sharpie from Peter and carefully signed his name over Peter’s palm. He gave it back and checked his phone. “I gotta go, sorry, decathlon practise and everything.”

“Decathlon? But it’s only the first day of school.”

“Yeah. But most of us are seniors now. We win at nationals and we’re practically handed a free pass to any college we want.”

Right, college. Yet another worry to add to the pile.

“I mean, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Ned continued, “But you get the point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“You can still join, you know. Mister Harrington’s always begging me to ask you. You’re, like, the smartest guy in the school.” Ned elbowed Peter in the side, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows, “Plus MJ’s captain now.”

“Shut up!” Peter looked around to make sure no one heard before quickly saying, “I- I couldn’t, anyway.” Having to do a presentation in front of his class was bad enough. Last time he’d clammed up so badly he couldn’t even speak and had to take ten minutes outside to calm his nerves again. Joining the decathlon team and performing in front of hundreds of people didn’t sound very appealing. “And I’m  _ not _ the smartest guy in school, like, at all.”

Then again, part of him longed to join the team. To belong to something. Anything.

Ned held up his hands in surrender. “No pressure. I’m just saying we’d love to have you. Mister Harrington would literally accept you the morning of nationals.” He rechecked his phone. “I do really have to go, though.”

“Absolutely,” Peter nodded. “I’ll see you in class.”

Ned gave a quick wave and ran off to the decathlon meet, leaving Peter alone. He looked up and down the corridor, checked the time on his own phone - still fifteen minutes until class - and decided that enough time must have passed by now to circle back to his locker. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d put away his physics textbook, instead of chemistry, which he’d need for first period.

He made his way back, trying to tune out the commotion all around and instead focus just on breathing calmly. And remembering his locker combination, and not dropping his books as he switched them over, and being himself. Because all he had to do was just be himself, right? Be himself and everything else would fall into place. That’s how it worked.

Right?

It had to be. It had to be because he didn’t know what else he was supposed to try. And if he didn’t try something, then he’d be like this forever. Useless, hated, broken. Always stuck on the outside, left to look in at everyone else getting on with their lives like ordinary people and, no matter how much he waved or shouted or to get their attention, they’d never notice him. Never.

He hit his fist against his locker door, muttering to himself a little too loudly. “Freak. That’s what you are. You’re such a  _ freak _ .”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Peter’s head snapped towards the voice coming from a couple of lockers over. “No- I- I didn’t.”

“A ‘freak’?” Flash finger quoted the word as he shouted, drawing looks from other students. “You think I’m a freak?”

Flash, the guy everyone knew of. His name, reputation, appearance - right down to the black painted fingernails - but nobody knew him. He stood there, staring at Peter in his combat boots, long black coat, and skinny jeans. Looking every bit the part everyone thought he played in the world.

“No, not at all. I- I didn’t mean… I wasn’t-” Peter stammered. His heart rate increased rapidly and his cheeks flushed as he shut his locker and backed away. “I’m sorry! You’re- You’re not-”

“I’m not the freak. You’re the  _ fucking _ freak!” Flash stormed towards Peter and shoved him hard.

Peter fell to the ground, yelping in pain as he gashed his arm on the wall of lockers. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a few deep breaths. Slowly, the noise of the other students returned. All of them turned their backs on Peter, pretending he wasn’t there or that they hadn’t seen. They simply didn’t care.

No one cared.

They never had.

He pushed himself up, collecting books that had fallen from his bag and stuffing them back in before anyone could come along and make his day any worse. The cut on his arm was slowly oozing blood and, though Peter was far from squeamish, he was going to need someone else to properly bandage it given the restricted movement of his cast. Peter looked around quickly. No one so much as glanced in his direction.

_ When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around, do you ever really crash or even make a sound. _

_ It’s like I never made a sound. _

_ Will I ever make a sound? _

“Hey,” came a voice from behind.

Peter turned, fully expecting someone to shove him down again just to add insult to injury. But he came face to face with MJ.

“Sorry about my brother, he’s a dick,” she said with a slight shrug of one shoulder. “It’s Peter, right?” The nonchalance in her voice suggested that cleaning up Flash’s messes was a regular occurrence.

“P-Peter…” he stammered. “Um, I’m sorry. Yeah, my name’s Peter. Sorry.”

MJ’s forehead creased. “What for?”

“You said my name, and then I repeated it which is always super annoying when people do that. I’m sorry.”

“You apologise a lot.”

“Yeah. I’m-” Peter cleared his throat. “You know...”

If MJ noticed the colour rising in Peter’s cheeks, she had the good grace to ignore. “That cut looks bad. I’ll help you clean it.”

“Oh, no. You-You really don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to faint, doofus. Besides, it’s the least I can do.” She turned on her heel and left before Peter had the chance to protest any further. He hurried to follow her into the bathroom. “Here, stand by the sink. I’ve got some stuff that’ll help.” 

Peter did as he was told - wiping his palms on his jeans just in case - and watched MJ pull out a mini first aid box from her bag. “You just carry that with you?”

“A side effect of living with my Dad. He can be a little paranoid sometimes.” She set about disinfecting the wound. “I think you’ll survive.” 

Peter snorted a laugh, earning a glare from MJ.

Eventually, she cracked a smile too. “You’re such a loser.” Somehow, the way she said it didn’t sound like an insult. “There, good to go.”

Peter looked down at his arm. She’d cleaned the cut and held it together with a couple of steri=strips. “Thanks. You’re good at this.”

“I grew up amongst superheroes. Guess I picked up a thing or two.” The school bell rang before Peter could reply. MJ pointed up at the ceiling. “That’s my cue. See you around.”

“Did you wanna sign my cast?” Peter blurted, the words practically merging into one. He immediately regretted it.

MJ paused in the doorway and turned around. “What?”

“Hmm?”

“Didn’t you just say something?”

“Who, me?” Peter looked back over his shoulder as if someone else were in the room. “No way… Jos é…”

“Okay, José. Bye.”

“See you!” Peter called after her. She was already too far away to hear.

# #

_ “Sorry, Honey. I know I’m supposed to take you to your appointment today, but Erica called in with the flu and I’m the only other nurse’s aid on today. I volunteered to pick up her shift.” _

“It’s fine,” Peter whispered, not wanting to disturb anyone else who might be in the computer lab. May taking a double shift wasn’t a rare occurrence, he’d come to expect not seeing her until the next morning.

_ “It’s just, they announced more budget cuts this morning. So I’m trying my best to look like a team player, you know?” _

“I get it May, it's fine. I’ll take the subway over.”

_ “That’s perfect, Honey. Just please eat something. We have dumplings in the freezer.” _

“Maybe.”

_ “Hey, did you write one of those letters yet? Doctor Sherman’s expecting you to have one.” _

Peter stared down at the blank document in front of him. “Yeah, yeah. I already finished it. I’m printing it out right now.”

_ “I hope it was a good day, Honey.” _

“It was… Yeah, it was great.”

_ “Well I hope it’s the beginning of a great year- Shit, I’ve got to go. Love you.” _

“Bye-” May had already hung up. 

Peter put his phone down and turned his attention to the document. He typed slowly, wiping at his eyes every so often when tears threatened to fall. This time there was no holding back, no faking that everything was okay, none of the forced positivity he seemed to have forgotten how to access. Just the truth.

The straight, hard truth.

_ Dear Peter Parker, _

_ Turns out today wasn’t a good day after all. And it’s not going to be a good week, or a good month, or a good year. Because why would it be? _

_ Oh, I know. Because there’s MJ, who I don’t know and who doesn’t know me. But maybe, if I could just talk, really talk to her, then everything would be different. Maybe… Maybe nothing would be different. _

_ I wish everything was different. _

_ I wish that I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered. Mattered to anyone at all. No one listens, not really. Everyone’s got their own things to do, places to be, but not me. I’m on a collision course with disaster with the auto-pilot is jammed on.  _

_ The worst thing is that I could fix it, turn the auto-pilot off and steer myself to safety. I want to. But there’s this little voice in my head who keeps asking ‘Why bother? Why try if you’re only going to fail anyway?’ And I just… I just keep listening to it. When I try to drown it out, it only shouts louder and louder until its deafening scream and fills my head. _

_ I’m a senior now, that’s what everyone keeps saying. As if somehow I could forget. Suddenly, because I’m a few months older than before, everything is supposed to click into place, and I’m supposed to have a plan for my life. Everyone else does. _

_ I can’t even imagine what my future might look like. _

_ I wish I could. _

_ Let’s face it. I could disappear tomorrow, and nobody would even notice I was gone. _

_ Sincerely your best and most dearest friend, me. _

Peter wiped his eyes again and hit print. His phone chimed, and he looked down to see a text from May. Deciding it was best to check in case there’d been a change of plans, he unlocked his phone only to find she’d sent a gif of an animated thumbs up. Peter knew that she meant well, but sometimes she really missed the mark. Not that it was her fault, May just had no idea how she was supposed to help. And Peter was just as clueless.

“So…”

Peter jumped out of his skin, almost dropping his phone in the process.

Flash stood about halfway down the row of computers holding a piece of paper. “What happened to your arm?”

People thought they knew Flash, but if you asked them you’d quickly find out they’ve never had a single conversation with him.  _ Oh, _ they’d say _ he’s Tony Stark’s son. Total lunatic, he threw a printer at Mrs G in fifth grade. _ That was all it took to get a reputation to stick, never mind the fact that his Dad flew a nuke into space while fighting an alien invasion only days before.

“Oh,” Peter slowly rose to his feet. “I fell out of a tree, actually.”

“... You fell out of a tree? Really Parker?”

Not that Flash tried to correct them.  _ Did you hear that Flash got expelled from his last school? _ For the most part, he ignored everyone else. They’d already cast him out, so why bother trying to fit in? He and Peter had that in common.

“Yeah.”

He paused for a long moment. Just as beads of sweat started to form on Peter’s forehead, Flash spoke. “That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, oh my god.”

“I know. I know.” Peter laughed along with Flash for a second before lapsing back into silence.

“Um… No one’s signed your cast.”

“Oh, actually Ned did. See-” Peter thrust his arm out so Flash could see the signature on his palm. “-right there, look.”

“Right.” Flash looked over his shoulder as if deciding whether to stay or to leave. “Well, I’ll sign it.”

Peter’s gut told him to run away while he still had the chance. “You don’t have to.”

“Do you have a sharpie or…?”

“Here.” Peter produced one from his pocket and handed it over to Flash, hoping the other boy didn’t notice the tremble of his hand. 

Flash took hold of his arm and very carefully, very slowly wrote out his name, the sharpie squeaking with each movement. Judging by the concentration on his face, this was his magnum opus. Once he’d finished, he put the lid back on the pen and handed it back over. Peter returned it to his pocket before looking at his handiwork.

There, on the side of his cast that faced out to the whole world and in the most oversized lettering Peter had ever seen, was Flash’s name. The word stretched the entire length and reached from top to bottom. At least it was neat writing.

“Oh. Great, thanks.”

Flash scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, well now we can both pretend that we have friends.”

“Good point.” 

After another lapse of silence, Peter started to walk away, though only made it a few steps before Flash spoke again. “Look, is this yours? I found it on the printer.” Peter turned around. “It’s just… I mean it says right here, ‘Dear Peter Parker’. That’s you.”

“Yeah, no. It’s just a stupid- it’s this paper that I had to write for an assignment, so…” Peter reached out to take the paper, but Flash moved out of his reach.

“‘Because there’s MJ,’” he read aloud. His voice had changed slightly, sharpened. “Is this about my sister?”

“No, not at all-” Peter tried to grab the paper again.

Flash’s voice slowly rose in volume, and he spoke very deliberately, enunciating every syllable. “You wrote this because you knew that I would find it-”

“What?” Peter’s knuckles turned white as he squeezed his backpack strap.

“You saw that I’m the only other person in here,” Flash spoke deliberately, enunciating every syllable. “So you wrote this, and you printed it out so that I would find it.”

“Why- Why would I do that?”

“Because,” Flash wasn’t holding back anymore, his voice roared through the computer lab. “Because you wanted to read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out so that you could tell everyone that I’m crazy.”

“What?”

“Right?”

“No-!”

“Fuck you!” Flash yelled. He clasped the paper harder and stormed out of the room.

Peter chased after him. “Actually I just- I really need that back!” Flash didn’t listen to a word. If anything he picked up the pace. “Please, Flash! I just- I really need-”

It was no use. Flash was already gone.


	2. And Then Everything Was Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Flash in possession of his letter, Peter dreads its inevitable reappearance. He just never expected it to happen like this...

Peter couldn’t sleep that night. He’d spent most of the afternoon pacing around the empty apartment as he tried to work off his nervous energy - almost glad that May had volunteered to pick up the night shift. Tearing his eyes from his phone seemed an impossible task. He obsessively refreshed his feed, dreading the inevitable appearance of his letter.

He must have drifted off at some point, however, because he woke up with a stiff neck and the alarm on his phone blaring on the pillow beside him. After ten nerve-wracking minutes of scrolling, Peter hauled himself out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. Flash must be toying with him, that was it. Biding his time and taking pleasure in watching Peter squirm. A predator playing with its prey.

Quietly, so as not to wake May, Peter poured himself a bowl of cereal. Though, when he sat down to eat, struggled to force it into his mouth out of fear his stomach would throw it back up again. Eventually, he just gave up and threw the rest into the bin. 

Just as he started to wash out the bowl, the front door opened and May walked in. She looked more exhausted than usual, sunken eyes rimmed with black circles and hair pointing every which way but the right one. Even her clothes were a mess, scrunched up and untidy as if hastily thrown on.

“May?” Peter asked as she came further inside. She was supposed to be asleep in her room having arrived back from her shift a couple of hours ago.

“Oh, hey Sweetie.” She forced a half-hearted smile, her voice lacking its usual pep. The sofa creaked as she fell on top of it, eyes fluttering closed.

“Are you alright?”

May waved in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring way but just ended up looking sad. “Just a difficult shift. Overran.”

Peter filled a glass with water and went to sit next to her, handing the glass over. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I can,” May took a few long gulps and wiped her mouth with her hand. “We had a… a high-profile case come in during the night. I wasn’t assigned to work it, but I had to cover other patients while their doctors and nurses were tied up with it.”

“Did they- I mean, the patient, are they okay?”

May couldn’t meet his eye.

Peter fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Like after the blip? When- You know, when Tony Stark was hurt after that fight at the Avengers Facility?”

“Yes,” May sat up, rubbing small circles on Peter’s leg. “But also no. Everything was - still is - kept under wraps, but it wasn’t another superhero fight, okay? We’re all safe and sound.”

Peter nodded, his qualms about disappearing for another five years somewhat calmed, though his stomach still churned thinking about his letter. 

“I’m going to take a shower then go straight to bed. You okay getting to school?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll take the bus.”

May leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Love you, Sweetie.” She gave his leg a quick squeeze and started towards the bathroom.

“Love you too,” Peter called after her. He waited until he heard the click of the bathroom lock before lugging himself back to his room and slowly getting ready. In truth, he had zero intention of taking the bus, or even the subway for that matter. No. He wasn’t going to give Flash the satisfaction of posting the letter while he was surrounded by classmates with no escape from the ridicule. Walking it is.

Peter arrived merely a couple of minutes before the bell rang for homeroom. There weren’t any photocopies taped to lamp posts, no one clutching flyers and showing everyone who would pay attention, not even a huge banner with ‘Peter Parker is a Loser’ graffitied over the school door. 

Waiting was torture. And Flash probably knew it. Peter’s heart hadn’t stopped hammering since yesterday afternoon and his appetite was non-existent. Thank god May had been so tired this morning, he didn’t feel like explaining this one yet.

The ring of the bell caused Peter to jump out of his skin, though thankfully no one else had been around to see. He hurried inside, prepared to meet his fate. 

Homeroom turned out fine, no untoward messages on the morning news. Same story in AP calculus, and Spanish, and physics. Lunch was next, aka the time when half the school crammed into a single room. Perfect for maximum humiliation.

“Hello? Earth to Peter.”

Peter snapped back to reality at Ned’s hand waving wildly in front of his face. He hadn’t even noticed his friend sit down.

“Finally, I’ve been trying to catch you all day. Where were you this morning? I waited outside but you weren’t on your bus.”

“Oh, yeah. Uh, I walked today.”

“You hate walking-” Ned leaned forward, his eyebrows knitted together. “- makes you all sweaty before school’s even started. What’s wrong?”

“You know those letters I have to write for Doctor Sherman?” Ned nodded. “Well, I printed one in the computer lab yesterday and Flash- He was there and- I mean… I don’t know what to do.” Peter dropped his head into his hands, focusing on reigning in his breathing.

“Woah, dude. Breathe, it’s okay.” 

Peter forced air to fill his lungs, held it for a few seconds, then slowly blew it out. It did little to calm his nerves, but straightened out some of the thoughts rattling around his head. “O-Okay. Flash found the letter and he- I’d talked about MJ in it, you see. Flash saw and got angry and, uh, he took it. I tried to get it back but he just wouldn’t listen.

“Wait, Flash  _ took _ your letter? That’s bad.”

“I know, Ned… Do you think he’s going to show anyone?”

Ned paused before speaking. “Do you want me to be honest?” Peter nodded. “Then I think he’s going to ruin your life with it.”

“Dude!” Peter looked up, his eyes wide.

“What? You asked for my opinion!”

Peter sighed, “I know, sorry. It’s just- He hasn’t done anything and I’m so…” He dropped his head onto the table, pushing his untouched food tray out of the way. “My life is  _ over _ .”

“I don’t know if this makes it better or worse, but Flash wasn’t in English today. Mrs Duran didn’t even ask where he was.”

“I think that’s worse…” Peter groaned. Actually… He straightened up and looked to the end of their table. Empty. “Where’s…” A quick look around the cafeteria and his stomach contracted in fear. “MJ isn’t here. And I don’t remember her being in Spanish.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Do you think Flash showed her the letter?” His voice came out far too high.

“Holy shit.”

“What about-” Peter’s heart thumped against his ribcage. He dropped his voice lower. “What if he told his parents? What if  _ Iron Man _ knows?”

Ned leaned back, his eyes wide with shock. “Holy. Fucking. Shit. Your life really is over.”

“Ned!”

“Sorry!” He held his hands up in surrender. “But, I mean if Iron Man turns up at school later I’m not going to be surprised.”

Peter slumped back onto the table, his hands wrapped around the back of his head. “I wish he’d just get it over with already…”

# #

Alas, Flash didn’t heed his wishes. For the third night in a row, Peter had fallen asleep clutching his phone. For the third morning, he’d woken up unrested. For the third day, he’d walked around school with his shoulders hunched up around his ears, scared to turn every corner lest he bump into Flash or MJ or a billionaire in a metal suit. And any time he dared to get his hopes up, he’d only see that name written out across his cast again.

It finally happened in the last lesson of the day. Peter sat next to Ned in chemistry, hardly concentrating with MJ’s empty chair at the bench in front of his own. The loudspeaker crackled into life to deliver a message.

The only thing coursing through his veins was panic. Full-on panic. It must have caused him to have some kind of auditory hallucination, but then thirty-odd pairs of eyes were fixed on him and Mister Cobwell was calling his name.

Ned elbowed his side, the final straw that this was really happening. In a single sweep, Peter collected his belongings into his bag and stumbled from the classroom. He moved on autopilot, his brain too numb to notice that he’d even reached the head’s office.

“What’s your name?” Judging by the receptionist’s face, it wasn’t the first time she’d asked.

“My- What?”

“Your name? I need it to sign you in.”

“Oh, right… It’s Peter. Parker.”

The receptionist looked up from her computer, meeting Peter’s eyes for a brief second before she returned to typing. When she spoke again, her voice had switched from strained-boredom to something much softer. “Okay, Peter,” she smiled and repositioned her glasses on her nose, “Why don’t you head on in.”

“Thanks.” 

What was he thanking her for anyway? Being kind in the last few seconds of his livable life?

He drifted towards Principal Morita’s office, his whole body trembling. With a deep breath, he knocked twice and opened the door.

The chair behind the desk sat empty. Peter was about to leave again, not wanting to worsen his situation by appearing to be snooping in the Principal’s office, when a voice spoke just to his right.

“Hi.”

No. He knew that voice. Everyone knew that voice. This was so much worse than he’d initially thought. 

Tony Stark and Pepper Potts sat on the sofa, a chair opposite them.

Peter’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide. “I-I’m so sorry. I thought- Uh, I thought I-'' He cleared his throat, desperately trying to calm his racing mind as he searched for the right words to say. “Is, um… Is Principal Morita here? I-I was told to come here over the intercom…” 

Tony glanced at Pepper, then turned back to face Peter. “He stepped out.” He stood and invited Peter to sit in the chair opposite them. “We wanted to speak to you. Privately.”

Peter sunk into the chair, trying to make himself as small as possible and wishing a hole would open up in the ground and swallow him. Tony sat too, one hand finding its way to Pepper’s knee. 

She’d still yet to look up, though was first to break the silence. “We’re… Flash’s parents.”

Peter jerked his head in an awkward nod. “Yeah…. I know.”

“We-” Pepper snapped her mouth shut as tears instantly filled her eyes.

“It’s okay, Pep,” Tony whispered, gently rubbing her leg. “When you’re ready.”

Swallowing loudly, Pepper nodded and reached down into her bag and pulled something out. A single piece of paper, neatly folded into quarters. The source of Peter’s troubles. She unfurled it with loving care despite her shaking hands. “This is…” She raked in a breath between her teeth and held the letter out for Peter to take. “Flash, he wanted you to have this.”

Peter took the paper. He didn’t want to look at it.

Tony leaned forward, not moving his hand from Pepper’s knee. It looked as though the touch was the only thing holding them both together. “We’d never heard your name before. Flash never mentioned anything, and then we saw-” he gestured towards the paper, waiting for Peter to reluctantly read it himself. “-’Dear Peter Parker.’”

“He gave this to you?” Peter asked. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Tony or Pepper’s eyes.

“We didn’t even know you were friends-”

“Friends?”

“-Until we saw this note.” Tony looked back at Pepper and bit his lip. After a long silence, he continued. “And it seems pretty clear that you and Flash were close.”

Peter’s mouth wasn’t cooperating. He wanted to correct them, but some sort of barrier had formed between his brain and his mouth, stopping the message from getting through. 

“I mean it’s right there.” Tony said louder, strained. “‘Dear Peter Parker,’ it’s addressed to you. He wrote this to  _ you _ .”

“Tony,” Pepper said gently. She pulled him back to sit properly on the sofa and laced her fingers into his.

Peter finally looked up. “You think that this- That Flash wrote this to  _ me _ ?”

“Those are the words he wanted to share with you,” Pepper said.

Tony cleared his throat. “His last words.”

“This is what he wanted you to have.”

The world fell out beneath Peter. “What do you mean his… his last words?”

The first tears finally fell down Pepper’s cheeks. “Flash… took his own life three days ago.”

And in a snap, Peter couldn’t breathe. His free hand gripped at the edge of the wooden chair, but his palm was too sweaty to hold on. “He what?” he gasped, fighting to get enough air into his lungs.

“That letter is all we found with him,” Tony took over from Pepper, his own eyes just as glassy. “He had it folded up in his back pocket. He was trying to explain it… Why he was…” Tony stopped and took a breath. “‘I wish everything was different.’ ‘I wish I was a part of something.’ ‘I wish that what I said mattered-” He broke off, the tears finally taking over, and buried his face into Pepper’s shoulder.

The room went silent apart from their muffled sobs.

Peter looked around. Looking for what? Help? A camera crew about to announce the whole thing as an elaborate prank? He tried to speak but couldn’t. The all too familiar rush of panic so intense it seized his entire body.

“This… It isn’t…”

Pepper looked at him. “Isn’t what?”

“Flash.” He couldn’t catch his breath. Panting.

“What does that mean?”

“Flash…”

“Yes?”

“He didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“I’m so sorry, Flash… I’m sorry,” Peter stuttered, his voice breaking on almost every syllable. “Flash didn’t write this. Sorry, Flash, he- he  _ didn’t _ write this.”

She turned to Tony. “What does he mean?”

“He’s in shock,” Tony answered. He dropped his voice to a whisper, “It’s a lot for a kid to take in.”

Peter wanted to set them straight. Explain how this whole misunderstanding had come about. But his thoughts kept coming out broken. Splintered apart. 

The sun glared through the window, low enough to creep under the half-lowered blind and directly onto Peter’s face. Burning.  _ Go, _ yelled a voice in the back of his head,  _ get out. _

“I’m sorry, but you should just take this back.” Peter thrust the letter back towards them, though neither reached out to take it. “I should really go. Please, just take it back. I need- I have to go.”

Neither of them spoke, their eyes fixed on Peter. His outstretched arm, specifically. No. Not his arm… his  _ cast. _

Peter’s own eyes trailed down. There, in the biggest, most unmistakable lettering, ‘ _ FLASH’. _

“Pep,” Tony whispered, “Look. His cast. His ‘ _ best and most dearest friend.’” _

# #

“...And I just- I couldn’t say anything. I mean, I couldn’t- I wanted to.”

“Dude...”

“They invited me over for dinner. Tomorrow night.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ned asked.

They sat on the ground behind the school building after the final bell rang, nestled between two pillars of brickwork. No one ever came by the area, and if they did they certainly weren’t looking in the hidey-hole, so the pair had found themselves back there many times over the years. Just the two of them. Of course, it had been easier when they were freshmen. Now was more of a squeeze.

Peter shrugged. “I mean, I have to, right? I’ve gotta go and tell them that this is all a mistake.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No? But I have to tell them. I can’t just-” Peter cut himself off, his voice threatening to break. The sight of the two of them fighting back tears burned into his mind. “It’s just… I’ve never seen anyone that sad before. Not even when Ben died...” Tears filled his eyes. He wiped them away.

Awkwardly, Ned manoeuvred to wrap his arms around Peter and held him tightly.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go after all. I mean, how am I supposed to explain-“ Peter took a long breath. “When they invited me, Mrs Potts was practically begging to know more and me and Flash’s ‘friendship’. Mister Stark didn’t say much, but his face… How can I tell them it’s all a lie?”

Ned shuffled back. “I might have an idea. It’s somewhere between both options.”

“How?”

“You don’t tell them the truth, so much as just tell them what they want to hear.”

“You think I should keep lying?”

“No!” Ned said quickly. “Well, not exactly. More like, confirm what they already know. I know what you're thinking-“ he added, holding out a hand to silence Peter before he could protest. “It sounds awful, but think about it. If they say that Flash liked apples, you just nod and say ‘yeah, he did like apples’. It’s not a lie because it’s true, and you don’t have to go over there and tell them that the only thing they have left of their son is a lie either.”

Peter weighed up the options. Morally, it felt icky, but telling the truth would tear the grieving family apart for sure. And that felt so much worse. The look on Tony’s face… Peter shuddered at the thought. He’s never seen a pain quite like it. Slowly, he nodded. “I suppose it is the best of both worlds.”

“I do it all the time. Literally nothing I tell my parents is true and they have no idea.”

“You really think it could work?”

Ned nodded. “Sure, so long as you follow the rules. Don't contradict, and don’t make shit up. Just nod and confirm. It’s foolproof.”

“I still don’t like it,” Peter sighed.

“Neither do I. But what are your other options?”

Ned’s phone chimed with a message, he checked it and jumped to his feet. “Peter, I’m so sorry. I’m late for Decathlon and Mister Harrington is telling us who made the team and who’s a sub today. I- I can stay if you need, though.”

“No, Ned, go. I’m fine. Hope you make the cut.”

Ned smiled. “Me too. Text me if you need anything. Okay? Anything.”

Peter nodded, and Ned ran towards the closest door. He pulled out his own phone, scrolling almost mindlessly and not really reading anything at all as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do. Then he came across a post written by Betty.

_ I still can’t believe the terrible news about Flash. I wouldn’t say that we were friends, more like acquaintances. We were lab partners in chemistry, and shared English class in tenth grade. _

_ Three days ago, Flash Thompson was here. And now? Now he’s not. If Flash meant something to you, please share this post. Or private message me if you just want somebody to talk to. It’s during times like these when we can all use a friend to help us get through. _

_ Rest in Peace, Flash Thompson. _

Peter read the post over and over, thinking about Tony and Pepper, how much pain they were in. He watched as the likes counter ticked up, and similar posts appeared from other people - some sad, some remembering Flash, and some, horrifically, joking about his death or saying it was for the best anyway. He realised that Tony and Pepper would see those. They’d remember the bad and not the good because that’s just the fucked up way people’s brains work.

He took a breath and whispered to himself, “Just nod and confirm.”

# #

Lying. He hated lying. Especially to May and, more recently, to grieving parents who just happened to be billionaire superheroes who saved the world countless times. In all of Peter’s wildest dreams - nightmares - he’d never imagined being in a situation anything like this.

He paced up the corridor outside his room, wringing his hands and trying to formulate a plan better than this. But his brain wasn’t working. He’d been trying all day, looking for a way out, coming up with excuses as to why he couldn’t go. Until he’d walked straight into MJ, too preoccupied inside his head to notice her as he rounded a corner. It was the first time she’d been back at school.

She’d looked him up and down before meeting his eye. Her face was totally unreadable, forced into impassiveness. “My mum wanted me to ask if six-thirty is a good time for you.”

Peter’s mouth had bobbed open and shut wordlessly.

“For dinner.”

He’d just nodded and hurried on his way. Now he had no choice but to go.

Air. That’s what he needed. He tore a piece of paper from one of his notebooks, scribbled ‘Gone to Ned’s’, and put it on the kitchen counter for May to see. After that, he tugged on his smartest looking pair of shoes and a coat and headed out.

It was still only six. The subway ride shouldn’t take more than half an hour which meant he had the time it took to walk to the station to come up with a plan. He walked out into the street but only made it about three steps before someone called his name.

A man - a rather grumpy looking one at that - stepped out of a recently polished Audi, wearing a crisp, black suit, and crossed his arms. “You are Peter, right? Peter Parker?” He repeated.

Peter nodded, “Yeah.”

The man opened the backdoor of the car and waited. When Peter made no movement, he jerked his head towards the car, “You getting in? Or are we standing out here all evening?”

“I… Right, uh, sorry.” Peter scurried forwards and practically leapt into the car. The man closed the door behind him and climbed into the driver’s seat. 

They drove for about a minute in silence, just long enough for Peter to realise he’d probably willingly climbed into his kidnapper’s car, before the man spoke. He glanced at Peter in the rear-view mirror, “I’m Happy.”

“Oh, um… I’m… I’m kinda nervous, I guess.”

The man let out a long exhale. “No. I’m Happy, my name is Happy. Hogan. That’s what people call me.”

“Sorry, right… I’m Peter.”

“Yeah. I think we’ve covered that.” Happy sighed again, his shoulders relaxing a little. “Sorry, it’s… it’s a difficult time is all. Not that I need to tell you that. Losing a kid, especially the way Tony and Pepper did, it’s unimaginable. And for the longest time Flash was the only family MJ had. They’re hurting, a lot. And - don’t take this the wrong way - but I don’t want you making it any harder than it has to be.”

“I won’t!” Peter squeaked. Not making it harder was basically his only goal for this whole outing, along with simply  _ survive _ .

“It’s just that I don’t know you, and it makes me a little edgy to be bringing a random kid to their house when they’re vulnerable like this.” Happy seemed to catch himself, hearing the words he was saying. “Sorry, kid. I know you’re hurting, too. I- I just-”

“No,” Peter cut in. “No it’s okay. I get it. And I won’t make it harder, I promise.”

Happy nodded once. “Good.”

They lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive. Peter watched out of the window as the buildings turned from crappy apartment blocks like his and May’s to grand, sprawling houses. He’d never been to this part of town before, it’s not like May would be house hunting any time soon and he didn’t have any friends to visit.

Eventually, Happy pulled onto a gravel driveway that snaked to a house set back a short distance from the road. A smattering of trees blocked it from view until they rounded a final corner and the full grandeur of the building was made clear. Let’s just say it wasn’t surprising that Tony Stark lived there.

Happy got out of the car and turned on instinct to open Peter’s door for him, only to realise he’d already done so himself. Peter hurried out and let Happy close the door for him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m not used to… Sorry.”

“Happens more than you’d think,” Happy said with a wave of his hand. “Remember what I said, eh?”

Peter nodded, subconsciously moving his hands to pick at the hem of his shirt, and started towards the front door.

“And kid?” Happy called after him. Peter stopped in his tracks and turned around. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. Should never have happened.”

“I…” For a brief second, Peter considered saying that it was okay, that he’d been through worse hurt three times over already and that, this time, the sick feeling in his stomach came from anxiety rather than grief. He bowed his head, “Thank you.”

Happy climbed back into the car and busied himself on his phone. Peter continued to the door and knocked three times. Seconds later it swung inwards and Tony Stark appeared.

“Come on in.” Tony stepped back to make space and beckoned for Peter to follow him.

Peter walked inside and looked around. The place was much more homely than he’d imagined. He’d always thought it was impossible to fill such a large space with the small things that made a place feel as warm and comforting as his apartment did. But somehow they’d managed it, all while keeping a sleek, modernistic style. 

A few Iron Man Funko Pops lined a shelf opposite the door. Tony must have noticed Peter eyeing them because he chuckled ever so slightly. “They send me every new design for approval before they put them out.” A sombreness enveloped his expression. “It was Flash who put them there. He was… He was proud of me when he was younger, much younger, and wanted everyone to know it.”

The thought of Flash as a young, smiling kid was foreign to Peter, but strangely warming. He found himself imagining what he’d have looked like - fluffy mess of black hair, huge infectious grin, and round glasses because everyone knew he wore contacts and Peter remembered seeing a Harry Potter badge on his bag on their first day at Midtown. He took it off the next day after being teased by jerks years older than him.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Yeah,” he nodded, “he was.”

Tony’s head snapped back towards Peter. “He said that?”

Peter nodded again. Tony kept staring, his eyes silently begging for more. Peter cracked under their heat. “Of-Of course he was proud. How could he not be?”

“Tony,” Pepper called from further inside, “Stop scaring Peter and get in here.”

After a moment longer, Tony broke his intense gaze and led Peter into the dining room. MJ and Pepper were in the adjoining kitchen plating up some delicious smelling food. “You couldn’t even hear what we were talking about,” Tony said, pointing Peter towards a chair and going to help bring plates over.

“No,” Pepper agreed, “But I know what you’re like.”

The whole atmosphere felt forced, like everyone was pushing themselves to act normal when normal was impossible to achieve. The three Starks brought through various plates of food and arranged them on the table before taking their own seats.

“You didn’t have to go to so much effort,” Peter sat, looking at the array of foods before him.

“We didn’t,” MJ said bluntly, already spooning a helping of vegetables onto her plate.

Pepper offered Peter a sympathetic smile. “Sam’s been bringing us food from the Compound upstate. Falcon, I guess you him as.”

“He’s a pretty good cook too, though I hate to admit it, so have as much as you want,” Tony added.

They ate mostly in silence, punctuated by the occasional attempt at stilted conversation, all of which died out within seconds. Despite the lashings of food, not much of it actually disappeared, though it was delicious as Tony had said.

“Did anyone want any more chicken?” Tony asked, another attempt to break through the awkwardness.

“No, Dad,” MJ snapped. She slammed her fist down on the table. “Cearly no one wants to be here, so why don’t we just give it up already.”

“Come on, MJ, that’s a little unfair-”

“Unfair? You really want to start a conversation about  _ unfair _ right now?”

“Please,” Pepper said loudly, gaining everybody’s attention. “Not now. Not with Peter here.”

“Why  _ is  _ he here?”

“He lost Flash too, MJ, you know that.”

MJ scoffed and turned in her chair, her back to Peter.

Tony cleared his throat, still with one hand on the plate of chicken. “Remember that time we went to Monaco?” Pepper fixed him with a stern glare. “Okay, not  _ that _ time. After, when the kids were a little older. We walked along the Monte Carlo Harbour, and there was the  _ most _ delicious smelling chicken vendor that we just couldn’t resist but-”

“But it tasted so bad that we fed it to that hawk that had found its way into the city.” Pepper smiled at the memory. “Did Flash ever talk about that trip with you, Peter?”

_ Just nod and confirm. _

Peter wiped his palms on his jeans and nodded quickly. “Yeah. Flash loved Monaco.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “He hated Monaco.”

“Right, that’s… That’s what I meant. Flash loved talking about how much he hated Monaco.”

“So, the two of you hung out a lot?” Tony asked, leaning forward.

Peter nodded.

MJ turned around again, “Where?”

“You mean where did we…?” Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. “W-We’d hang out at- at my apartment a lot, I guess. And- and out… y’know? Sometimes, though, sometimes he didn’t wanna hang out in person and we’d- uh… We’d email so that we didn’t have to…”

“No. We looked through his emails. There weren’t any from you.”

Peter’s palms were getting sweaty again and he felt heat rising in his cheeks. “Right… That’s because, um, because he had a different- We’d use a different account, like… like a secret one. I guess it was more private. I should have said before, that was probably confusing. Sorry.”

MJ still wasn’t having it. She folded her arms and glared at Peter. “Okay, funny thing is the only time I saw you and my brother together was when he shoved you at school last week.”

“He shoved you?” Tony asked.

“Hard,” MJ answered. “I was there. I saw the whole thing.”

“No no no.” Peter squirmed where he sat. He was supposed to be making it easier for them, not painting Flash in a bad light. The rest of the world was already doing that. “No um, you see… The thing was, because he didn’t want us to talk at school so I guess he… It wasn’t a big thing. It was my- it was my fault.”

Pepper placed her hands on the table in front of her. “Why didn’t he want you to talk to him at school?”

“Um…” Peter looked down at his lap. “I- I guess he was… embarrassed… or something. Because I’m kind of a… a…”

“Nerd?” MJ offered.

“I was gonna say loser, actually, but nerd works, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Pepper said, “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Well Flash wasn’t very nice, Mum, so that makes sense.”

A switch flicked in Pepper’s mind, and everyone was shouting over each other. “Why do you refuse to remember any of the good things?”

“Because there  _ were  _ no good things!”

“Of course there was-” Tony started.

MJ threw her hands up, her voice rising even louder. “Tell me! What were the good things, Dad? What? Because I don’t remember a single one!”

“I don’t want to have this conversation in front of our guest!”   
Peter wanted it to stop. He wanted to go home and pretend none of this ever happened and he wanted the shouting to just  _ stop. _ The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I remember a lot of good things about Flash!”

Somehow, his voice was louder than the other three combined, and everyone quieted. “Like what?” MJ asked. There was something in her tone, hidden beneath the anger and the pain. Yearning.

_ Don’t make shit up. _

“No, I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have…. I should never have said anything, never mind. It doesn’t matter. Really.”

“Peter,” Pepper leaned across the table and put her hands on Peter’s, “We want to hear what you have to say.”

It couldn’t hurt to make a little something up, could it? They so desperately wanted to hear something good about Flash, they  _ needed _ something good to remember about him. He took a deep breath, hoping to steady his racing heartbeat. “Well… Flash and I… I remember we had a really great time together, one day recently at… at the…” His eyes fell on the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. “At the apples… the apples place...”

Three heads turned his direction. Three sets of eyes studied his face as if trying to see inside. He must have said the wrong thing. Given everything away.

“Anyways, I knew that it was stupid, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he blurted. The words merged into one in his haste to backtrack.

“Flash took you to the orchard?” Tony asked, his voice little more than a whisper. Silently, Pepper’s eyes flooded with tears.

Peter nodded.

“I’d forgotten all about that place,” Pepper muttered. “I thought it closed down years ago.”

“Exactly! Which-Which was why we were so bummed when we got there…”

“Do you remember, MJ? We’d go up there on the weekends, take picnics with us. And there was that ice cream place, um,” she screwed her face up, trying to remember its name.

“A La Mode,” MJ filled in. “We’d always eat there on the drive home.”

“Yes! You and Flash would sit and look for four-leaf clovers while we set up the blanket. And didn’t you have a little remote controlled plane that you’d fly around until you-” she pointed a finger at Tony as a smile crept onto her face. “- you crashed it into the river.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It was an emergency landing, Pep, come on.”

Pepper turned back to Peter. “I bet that was fun, I bet you two had fun…”

Peter nodded again, his eyes drifting between the three pairs staring back at him. They stayed silent. Waited for him to carry on. “It- It was the end of May. We drove up there, got ice cream at A La Mode on the way.” He closed his eyes, imagining the scene in his head.

“We walked for a while before finding the perfect spot to sit and eat it. The view was perfect, like the sky stretched on forever and the sun beamed down on us. We talked too, about the stuff we’d get up to when we graduated, and the girls at school who’d never so much as notice us.” He spared a glance in MJ’s direction. She hung on his every word with rapt attention. 

“I remember laughing so much my face actually hurt. We used to laugh all the time.” Peter smiled, caught up in the story. He swept his arm out wide, everyone’s eyes following. “And suddenly he was running. I heard him call back to me to follow him, so I did and we were both running across this field towards the tallest tree we could find. An oak, forty feet at least and beautiful. He reached it first and started climbing but I was much faster. We kept going, higher and higher until the sun burst through the trees and hit our faces.”

“Then the branch I was holding gave way and I fell, down and down until I hit the ground. My arm went numb, but it was alright because he’d come to get me. Everything was alright.”

Peter hadn’t realised he’d stood up during his story. He hadn’t stuttered or stumbled over his words, either. He looked around the room, no one’s face was tear free. Tony had his eyes hidden behind his hand, though his shoulders shook gently.

Slowly, Pepper got to her feet. “Thank you, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She closed the distance between them and wrapped him in a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo peter's digging a hole...
> 
> thanks so much for reading yall! my tumblr is thedumbestavenger where you can find writing updates and general marvel stuff, feel free to come yell at me <3


	3. Emails to No One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another friday another chapter + a little dose of irondad kicking in!

**They think you were boyfriends. You know that, right?**

**What? No!**

**Why would they think that?**

Peter lay on his bed, staring up at the top bunk in between shooting texts to Ned. Happy had dropped him back at his apartment after dinner with the Starks, the drive was even more awkward than the trip there.

**You were best friends.**

**Didn’t tell anyone about it.**

**And the one time you tried to talk at school, he kicked your ass.**

**Surely you’ve seen films with that exact plot before.**

**No. They wouldn’t think that.**

**Besides, I was only trying to follow your advice.**

**I said nod and confirm.**

**Not make up a secret friendship.**

**You don’t understand, dude.**

**I got nervous and started talking, and then I just couldn’t stop.**

**They didn’t want me to stop.**

It hit Peter why he’d been able to get through the whole story without stumbling over his words or stuttering. They didn’t want him to stop. They actually  _ wanted _ to hear what he had to say. And enjoyed it, too. Needed it.

Needed him.

**Did you tell them anything else?**

**No, nothing at all.**

**I might have said that we wrote each other emails…**

**Emails?**

**Wait, do you think they’re going to want to see them?**

**I think that’s a given.**

That familiar feeling of panic started to rise again.

**What am I going to do?**

**I can do emails.**

Peter sat up, forcing calm breaths into his lungs.

**What do you mean?**

**I could create an account, backdate the emails.**

**It’s easy.**

**You’d do that for me?**

**Of course.**

**Hang on, Mum’s calling, I’d better see what she wants.**

**Talk later.**

**See you.**

Peter didn’t have time to process the conversation with Ned before he heard the front door open and May called out a cheery greeting. She poked her head around his bedroom door and smiled. “Hey, Honey. How was school today?”

He swallowed, forcing away all thought of dinner with the Starks. Hoped his hands would stop shaking. “Yeah, it was good.” A fallback option, classic. But it always worked.

May smiled gently. “Sorry I had to work late again. You know how it is sometimes.”

His eyes drifted down to his cast. “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking hard, he returned his gaze to May. She walked inside and perched on the end of his bed, rubbing his leg in a soothing motion.

“Are you okay, honey? You’ve seemed a bit distant the last few days.”

“I’m fine. It’s, uh, school’s been a lot of work, that’s all.”

“It’s only the first week.”

“Of senior year.” Peter picked at fluff on his duvet cover. “They’re stepping it up, and I just don’t want to fall behind.”

“Do I need to look at getting you a tutor?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. It’s just taking a minute to get used to, I guess.”

“Okay, Honey. But you know you can always talk to me about anything, yeah?” 

Peter smiled. “Of course.” 

_ But not this. _

“Hey, I saw these on my break today,” she pulled a stack of papers from the bag slung over her arm. “College scholarship essay contests, you ever heard of these?”

“I think so.” Peter rifled through the top papers.

“There’s a million different topics you can do! Look at this one, JFK Profile in Courage Scholarship, five thousand dollars. College is going to be so great for you, Honey.”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, how many chances in life do you get to just start all over? You’ve got so many wonderful things ahead of you. High school isn’t everything.” May was quiet for a moment, watching Peter’s blank expression. “Anyway, I just thought these were… You know, seemed like a neat idea.”

Peter looked up, forcing a smile. “They are for sure.”

May brightened up again. “Well, you always were a wonderful writer, and we’re going to need all the help we can get for college.”

Peter set the papers aside. “Yeah, I know. I’ll look properly tomorrow.”

She patted his leg and headed out. About halfway to the door, May paused and slowly turned back. “I got an email from your school today.” She waited for Peter to say something. “About Eugene… Tony Stark’s son.”

Peter snapped his mouth shut. Kept his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

“I meant it when I said you can talk to me. I know it must seem like I’m always at work or in class, but I’m here. And if not  _ here  _ here then I’m only a phone call away. Text, email, whatever.”

“I know. Thanks. I… I didn’t really know him.”

May stood there in silence for a few seconds, her eyes flicking between Peter and the door. Eventually, she said, “It’s just-” she pointed her finger, “-right there. It says ‘Flash’ on your cast. Haven’t I seen interviews where Tony Stark calls his son that?”

Peter’s head shot up, his eyes wide and heartbeat racing for what must have been the twentieth time that evening. “No! Well, yeah, but this… this is different. Uh, it’s just a nickname I have for Ned, because, uh… Because he’s so fast with the bell in Decathlon. Yeah, it’s not- It’s different. Really different.”

May visibly let out a long breath, her face lighting up and shoulders relaxing. “Oh, thank god. I was so worried.”

“Oh, yeah… Of course.”

“Hey, how about I ditch my shift next Tuesday and we go out to eat? How long’s it been since we had a proper taco Tuesday, huh? We could talk about those essay contests, brainstorm ideas and stuff like that. What do you think?”

A genuine smile crossed Peter’s face. He was pretty sure they hadn’t had a taco Tuesday since Ben died, and they’d always used to be the one part of the week he didn’t spend the rest of the time dreading. “Yeah, that’d be really awesome.”

“I’m already excited,” May grinned. “I’m going to change then. You okay on refills?”

“Yeah, still okay.”

“Alright, Honey,” May quickly crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

# #

“My parents are only out for a couple of hours, so we have to be quick with this,” Ned led Peter through his apartment and into his room. “I’ve already set up the SMTP server.”

“The what?”

“Simple Mail Transfer Protocol server, it’ll let us ‘send’-” Ned air quoted the word, “-from whatever date we like. So long as you print them out and hand them over not even Tony Stark will know they’re backdated.”

Peter let out a breath, “Okay, that’s good. But… What do I write? I mean, it’s not like I know anything about Flash.”

“I have no idea either.” Ned pulled out his desk chair and indicated for Peter to sit, pushing it back in when he did.

“I guess… I just- I want it to seem like I was a good friend, y’know?”

“Alright, um…” Ned paused to think for a moment. “Okay, type what I say. It’ll probably get easier once we’re started.”

“If you say so…” Despite his dubiousness, Peter got ready to type.

_ Dear Peter Parker,  _

_ We’ve been way too out of touch, which totally sucks because things have been so crazy recently. Remember that day at the orchard? We should go back some time, but only if you promise not to break your other arm this time. _

_ I should tell you that I think of you every night and get so- _

“Ned!” Peter yelped, realising the train of thought his friend was following and playfully smacking his arm. “Not cool! Just- I’ll do it.” He hit the backspace key and started typing again. Ned leaned over his shoulder to read as he went.

_ I should tell you that life without you has been hard- _

“Hard?” Ned asked with a smirk. Peter hit backspace again with a sigh.

_ Has been rough- _

“Kinky!” he chuckled.

_ And I really talking to you about stuff. _

_ I guess I should explain why I haven’t replied for so long. Like I said, things have been crazy around here. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but each day is just another fight. Maybe everything would be alright if I stopped smoking drugs- _

“‘Smoking drugs?’”

Peter sighed and got to his feet, pushing Ned into the chair instead. “You do it then. And stop making it seem like we were boyfriends. Make it… Make it more nice.”

Ned settled into the chair, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.

_ If I stop smoking crack- _

“I am  _ not _ telling Iron Man his son smoked crack.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

_ If I stop smoking pot then everything might be alright. Maybe I should start taking that advice you’re always giving me and try to be ‘more nice’. It seems to work for you, so maybe I’ll give it a go.  _

_ I’m gonna turn it around, just you wait and see. _

_ Sincerely, me. _

Ned turned to look up at Peter. “What do you think?”

“It’s okay, I think.”

“So, is that it? Are we done now?”

Peter shook his head. “I can’t just give them one email. I want to show that I was, y’know... nice.”

“Okay, um, write a reply then, I guess.” Ned stood and allowed Peter to retake control of the writing.

_ Dear Flash Thompson, _

_ Yes, I also miss our talks. It’s been far too long since we last spoke. I’d love to go back to the orchard one day, and not only because of the ice cream. _

_ I think you should stop doing drugs, too. Just try to take deep breaths and go on walks. _

“No.”

Peter tuned him out. As he typed, he could see Flash in his mind reading the email, the same way he imagined them both at the orchard at dinner the other night. In fact, it almost felt as if Flash was in the room with them.

_ I’m sending pictures of the most amazing trees. _

“No!”

_ You’ll be obsessed with all my forest expertise. _

“ _ Absolutely  _ not.”

_ Dude, I’m proud of you. Just keep going, you’re already starting to turn around. I can see that even if you can’t. All you’ve gotta do is just believe you can be who you want to be. _

_ Sincerely, me. _

“Oh, and don’t forget to mention how hot you think his sister is!” Ned tried to push Peter aside to add a line in himself.

“Dude!” Peter batted him away, laughing. “What the hell?”

“My bad. Anyway, keep going, you’re on a roll.”

The words seemed to fall out effortlessly as Peter typed. It was simply him and Flash having a conversation, with the occasional piece of input from Ned to keep everything on track.

_ Dear Peter Parker, _

_ Thanks for every note you send. _

_ … _

_ Thanks for the tree pictures. _

_ Sincerely, me. _

_ Dear Flash Thompson, _

_ I’m just glad to be your friend. _

_ … _

_ You’re getting better every day. _

_ Sincerely, me. _

Peter only stopped writing once they had a decent stack of emails printed out. Some long, some only a couple of lines. Once Ned’s parents texted to say they were on the way back and Ned all but shooed him out of the door. Peter wasn’t walking home alone that night, Flash walked right alongside him.

# #

Peter clutched the stack of letters like his life depended on it. He stood in the Stark’s living room, Tony and Pepper opposite. From the moment he’d stepped into their house, a wave of regret passed over him. This was wrong. So, so wrong.

“You going to hold onto them all night?” Tony asked. The comment earned him an elbow in the ribs from Pepper, but was enough for Peter to spring into action.

“Right! Of course.” He thrust the letters towards the pair. Pepper took them with a gentle smile, her hands trembling. “These are- I mean, that’s just some of the, uh, some of the emails I found. I’ve- I’ve got more… If you wanted.”

_ Shut up shut up shut up. _

Pepper’s eyes darted across the top letter as she read. Once she reached the bottom, she looked up at Tony with a pained smile on her face. “It’s… This is…” 

With utmost care, Tony picked the letter from the pile and held it in his hands. His eyes filled with tears. He took the next from Pepper, then the next and the next, before realising Peter was still there.

He looked up, met Peter’s eye. “It’s hard to read these… It doesn’t sound like Flash.”

Peter’s head span, vision blurring slightly at the edges. “I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have brought- I’ll just take them back and go. Sorry. So sorry.”

“No,” Pepper said. “I…” A slow smile spread across her face. “I don’t remember the last time I heard Flash laugh. It sounds like you two laughed a lot.”

“Oh, yeah.” Peter nodded furiously. “We laughed all the time.”

Tony cleared his throat. “You said you have more?”

“More? Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course. There’s loads more.”

He turned to Pepper, “I think we’d both love to see them.”

Pepper nodded, “We’d love to see everything.”

The front door opened and closed, its hinges creaking. A few seconds later, MJ entered the living room. She took one look at the scene in front of her and froze. “What’s he doing here?”

Tony crossed the room towards her. “MJ, look-” he passed a letter over, “- emails from your brother.

MJ glanced at the letter, then back up at Tony. “I’m supposed to read this?”

“I just thought-”

“I don’t want to. I’m not going to.”

“MJ.”

“No! I’m not going to sit here and pretend Flash was a good person.” She glared at Peter, “No matter what  _ he _ says.”

If the floor opened up and swallowed Peter, he’d be grateful. Anything would be better than this. He fixed his eyes firmly on the floor, withering under MJ’s stare.

Pepper attempted to diffuse the situation. “How was school, Sweetie.”

“Oh, it was great.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Everyone wants to be my friend now. I’m the dead kid’s sister, didn’t you know?”

“I’m sure they mean well.”

“Sure… It’s not like school’s one huge popularity contest or anything. Apparently being friends with me gets you double points now.”

Peter cracked under the atmosphere in the room. “I- I should probably go.”

Tony turned to face him, his expression one of confusion. “You’re not staying for dinner?”

_ Was he supposed to be? Mister Stark sure seemed to think so… _ “No... I’d better go.” 

A flicker of something crossed Tony’s face. Peter didn’t believe his eyes, but it looked almost like disappointment. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat and shaking his head. “Right. Let me show you out.”

Peter followed Tony from the room. Quite frankly, he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“Thank you again for the emails. It couldn’t have been easy going back through your conversations.”

Peter liked looking back through text conversations with Ben, especially just after he’d died. It helped him feel closer to him. “It’s okay. It was kinda nice, y’know? Rereading them.”

Tony stopped with one hand on the door handle. “Hey, kid. Can you do us a favour?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything you want.”

“In the future, you should wait to see what I’m going to ask before blindly agreeing.”

It was a dumb joke but still made Peter smile. Seeing that, Tony smiled too. He almost looked proud. “Will do, Mister Stark.”

“Anyway, if you could keep our address on the down-low, that would be great. Just with the press clamouring for a comment from us, we’d prefer people not find out where we live. Only a handful of people know as is.”

Peter nodded. “Of course. It’s not like I have anyone to tell anyway.”

_ Why would you say that? _

“Okay, that’s a little depressing.”

“Sorry.”

“Here. Let me give you my number, Happy’s too. I know we’re quite far from the closest subway station, and winter is going to start setting in any time now. He can bring you anytime you want to visit.”

“Visit?”

It looked to Peter as though Tony was mentally face-palming, though he masked it well. “If you found any more emails you wanted to share or… or…” Some kind of battle raged under his skin. “Or if you wanted to stay for dinner one night.” 

“Um…”

“No pressure or anything,” Tony added quickly, “But we’d love to have you. It’s up to you.”

_ They wanted him. _ Peter smiled again, bigger this time. “I’d like that, actually.”

Tony visibly relaxed, a smile playing on his lips. “Good,” he nodded once, “See you later, kid.”

“Bye, Mister Stark.”

He made his way outside and towards Happy’s waiting car. And he couldn’t stop smiling.

_ They wanted him. _

# #

Peter and Ned stood in the cafeteria line that lunch, trays in hand, and slowly made their way forward. “How’d it go with Flash’s family yesterday?” Ned asked. It was the first time they’d really had time to catch up all day what with Decathlon practice.

“Shh!” Peter hissed, looking around quickly to see if anyone had overheard. If they had, they didn’t make it clear. “Not so loud, okay? I-I don’t want everyone knowing about it.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ned said, now whispering. “But still, how’d it go?”

“Well, I gave them the emails and- and they seemed happy, I think? Mrs Potts and Mister Stark, at least.” Peter slid his tray forward as the line moved up. “They- I think they like mine and Flash’s, uh… friendship. Y’know?”

“They weren’t, like, suspicious that Flash never mentioned that you were friends?”

Peter shook his head. “No. No, not at all. I-I did say I’d get them more emails, though.”

“Dude!” Ned nudged Peter in the ribs.

“I’m sorry! It’s just- I start talking sometimes and can’t stop, I guess. Plus they wanted more, they- they wanted to hear more of what I had to say.”

“And what are you going to say?”

Peter shrugged. He watched as a lump of mashed potato was spooned onto his tray and smiled up at the server before moving on. “They invited me round for dinner again.”

Ned’s eyebrows shot up. “They what?” 

“Mister Stark text me this morning, wondering if I wanted to go over tomorrow.”

“Are you gonna?” Ned and Peter finally worked their way to the end of the line and went towards their usual seats.

“I mean, yeah? I can’t not go, not after… everything.” He dropped his voice even lower despite the fact no one was in earshot in the loud cafeteria. “I’m too deep into this to stop now. You didn’t see the way they looked at those letters, it’ll destroy them if they find out.”

Ned sighed. “Okay, okay. Go. But be careful, dude. That’s Tony Stark, don’t forget. The guy who brought us back to life.”

“Actually, that was Doctor Banner,” Peter mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potato.

“Alright fine, but Mister Stark still saved us a bunch of times.”

“I know, Ned. I know what I’m-” 

Ned cut him off by kicking his leg under the table and nodded over Peter’s shoulder. Confused, Peter turned around to see MJ stalking towards them. Once she reached the table, she folded her arms across her chest and looked at Peter. “Dad wanted me to tell you that you’re welcome at ours whenever you want. So… yeah.” She turned as if to walk away again, but glanced back for a second. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

# #

That evening, while Peter finished up some homework in his room, his phone screen lit up with an incoming call. Usually, he’d just pretend not to have seen, but the caller ID caught his eye.  _ Betty Brant. _

He only had her number from last year’s English project, so seeing her phoning him now was certainly a surprise. Weighing his options - ignore or answer - Peter eventually chose the latter. Betty had, after all, been the only person other than Ned who actually tried to be his friend.

Wishing his heart to beat at a slower pace, he put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

_ “Hey, Peter. It’s good to hear from you. I wasn’t sure you’d pick up. Didn’t even know if this was still your number, honestly,”  _ Betty chuckled.

“No, yeah, it’s still me.” An awkward silence stretched between them. “Did- Did you want something?”

_ “Right… Of course…”  _ An audible sigh came over the line.  _ “I- Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I just, uh, wanted to check in with you. I heard about Flash, obviously.” _

Peter sat straighter as a tingle of fear crept up his spine. “Yeah… It’s really sad news.” __

_ “I- It’s just that… Jason was talking to Abe about how he overheard you and Ned earlier, in the lunch line.” _

The world fell away in front of Peter’s eyes. “Oh…” 

_ “He was saying that you and Flash were friends, and that you’re spending time with his family and- And I just wanted to check that you were okay. I mean, not okay but… you know…” _

“Uh…” Peter’s palms were sweating. So much so that he quickly wiped his free hand on his jeans and swapped his phone into it before he dropped it. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s- It’s hard, but I’m getting through it, I guess.”  _ Was that a normal thing to say when your best friend died? _

_ “Well, you can talk to me anytime you want. At school, or phone, or text, whatever. If you wanted someone to talk to.” _

“Did- Did you know Flash, too?”

_ “Not really, we were just acquaintances.”  _ Another moment of silence filled the space. Peter couldn’t think of a single thing to say this time.  _ “I… I don’t know if this is any comfort, but Flash’s death is really bringing the school together. I’ve had people I’ve never spoken to reaching out. It’s pretty incredible.” _

An honest to god smile pulled Peter’s mouth upwards, and he couldn’t figure out why, exactly. “That’s- Actually, that’s really nice to hear. I’m glad he- That he meant something to someone else. He’d be happy, too…”

_ “Everyone on the news team was talking about how strong you’ve been these last few days. It can’t be easy, anyone else would be falling apart.” _

“Ev-Everyone?”

_ “Yeah, I guess Jason told a couple other people, too. A lot of people know.” _ She paused.  _ “That’s a lie. Everyone knows.” _

Peter moved the phone away from his ear, taking a few deep breaths to calm his nerves before putting it back. “I- I think my Aunt just got home, I should probably go…” It was a lie, of course, May had been home for a few hours already. It was taco Tuesday after all.

_ “Just one more thing.” _

“Mm-hm?”

_ “I was going to set up, like, a memorial page for Connor, but I feel like I should get your permission now. I asked MJ, but she just brushed me off… Just a place for Flash to be remembered properly.” _

“Yeah, that- that sounds like a great idea.”

_ “That’s great. I’ll keep you updated with how it goes. Anyway, you needed to go. See you later.” _

“Bye.” Peter hung up quickly and threw his phone to the other end of his bed before collapsing backwards, hands splayed over his face.

Great. Just great. School tomorrow was going to be hell.

“Hey.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. Flash leaned against the corner of his room, one strap of his backpack carelessly hung over his shoulder and mindlessly picking at his black nail polish.

“Thought I was the downer in this friendship.”

“Yeah, well… Who says we can’t have two?”

“Me. So smile, or do some other happy person shit, I don’t know.” Flash shot a grin across the room.

“I guess, maybe, school won’t be  _ that _ bad? Maybe everyone will have stopped talking about it?”

“That’s the spirit. And hey, if not, at least you’ve still got me.” Flash spread his arms out and spun in a little circle.

Peter flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the bunk above. “Oh great. ‘Cause you’re totally real.”

Flash pointed his finger at Peter, eyebrows raised. “That’s offensive.”

A knock sounded at the door, followed by May’s muffled voice. “Just me, Honey. Can I come in?”

Lifting his head, Peter glanced over to the corner only to find it empty once again. “Hey, May.”

She opened the door and stepped inside. “I wanted to check, first. Thought I heard voices a minute ago.”

“Oh, yeah, that was, uh… Just talking to Ned.”

May smiled, “He’s a good friend you know? One of the best.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I know.”

“Anyway, I just came to tell you I’m about to head to work-”

Peter sat up again. “Weren’t we- I mean, I thought we were getting tacos tonight?”

May’s expression melted through confusion to remembrance before settling on remorse all in a single second. She stepped forward, both hands reaching out for Peter but he shuffled backwards. “Oh, Honey. I’m so, so sorry.”

“We were gonna look at those essays…” Peter cast his gaze down.

“I completely forgot it’s Tuesday. That’s totally on me.” May pressed her hands to her chest and took another step closer.

“No, it’s okay,” Peter mumbled.

It’s not. I’ll tell you what, how about you look at the essays without me and email me your ideas. That way I can write back any thoughts. It’s better anyway that way, right? So you can really take your time with them-”

Peter got to his feet, cutting may off mid-sentence. “Yeah, no. For sure.” He finally met May’s eye, though his gaze drifted over her shoulder to where Flash stood, a lopsided half-smile on his face. Crossing his room, Peter grabbed his school bag and stuffed his remaining homework inside, as well as a hoodie and his phone.

“What are you doing?” May tried to catch hold of his arm, but Peter pulled away, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m going… going out.”

May took on an exasperated tone. “We can do tacos another night, Peter. Tomorrow! What about tomorrow night?”

“I can’t I’m- I have a thing tomorrow.” Peter glanced up, once again seeing Flash waiting for him. He pushed past May, but she managed to entangle him in her arms and stop him getting further away.

“Come on, let’s sort this out. I don’t want to leave you angry.”

“I’m not angry! I just- I’m going to the library to finish my homework, that’s all.” He pulled himself free of May’s grip and quickly made his way down the corridor and into the living room. By the sound of it, May was hot on his heels. One hand on the door handle, he turned. “I’ll cook something when I get home.” With that he pulled the door open, stepped outside, and slammed it shut again before May had the chance to speak.

Flash was waiting at the end of the corridor. “You’re welcome at ours anytime. My parents  _ want _ to hear what you have to say, don’t forget.”

Peter hurried towards him. Well, technically towards the lift down to the ground floor. He pressed the call button. He hunted around in his bag for his phone, eventually taking it out and pulling up Happy’s number.

# #

“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Peter,” Pepper called from the kitchen. Her voice carried surprisingly well around the large house.

He’d wound up in Flash’s old room. Posters coated the walls - old bands like The Beatles and Nirvana, Bruce Springsteen, as well as movies like Batman and The Godfather, even a Harry Potter poster hidden in the corner by the window. He had shelves packed full of books, stacks of vinyl records, and a desk covered with little nick-nacks he’d collected.

“Like what I did with the place?” Flash relaxed back on his bed, arms behind his head and ankles lazily crossed.

“Yeah. It’s nice.” Peter flicked through the vinyl collection, looking around for a record player.

“I was saving up for one. I know, I know, billionaire parents. But I wanted it to be mine. Something I’d earned.” He chuckled, “Problem is I kept buying new records instead.”

“That’s not going to get you very far.” 

“Are you talking to yourself?” 

Peter turned at the speed of light. MJ leaned against the door frame, arms crossed. “Talking? What?” He shook his head. “Not me.”

“Thought I heard voices?”

“Must be hearing things.”

“You calling me crazy?”

“What?” he yelped. “No! Not at all. I’d- I’d never-”

“Relax,” MJ smiled, “I’m messing with you. Probably just Mum and Dad downstairs.” Her smile faded as she looked around the room. “What are you doing in here?”

“Oh, um…” Peter didn’t know what to say. His legs just carried him in here. “Just waiting, I guess.”

MJ adjusted her arms, wrapping them further around herself as she perched delicately on the edge of Flash’s bed. “You know, it’s weird. I haven’t been in here since…” She stared at the floor for a moment before clearing her throat. “Don’t your parents get mad that you’re here all the time?”

Peter’s eyebrows jumped up. “My parents? Not really.”

“Mine would.”

“Oh, well, you see they don’t really care because they’re dead.” It took MJ’s face all of two seconds to cycle through shock to dismay to pity. The words fell out of Peter’s mouth in a jumble as he rushed to clear things up. “Not recently. They died years ago when I was a kid. I… Uh, I live with my aunt now. May.”

MJ watched him for a second. “Doesn’t she get mad that you’re here all the time?”

“It’s not like… I mean, I’m not here  _ all _ the time.”

“Right, yeah. Only four out of the last five days.”

She had a point. Since that first dinner on Saturday, he’d returned on Monday to hand over the emails - albeit he didn’t stay for long - then yesterday after the whole taco Tuesday thing blew up, and he’d still taken Tony up on his offer of dinner today. He bowed his head and picked at his shirt. “May works a lot. And she’s got classes as well. They take up a lot of her time is all…”

“Classes for what?”

“Legal things. LSAT prep and stuff.” MJ nodded but made no attempt to reply. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Peter looked around, trying to think of something to say to break the tension. The smell of Pepper’s cooking wafted upstairs. “Your mum said it’s gluten-free lasagne for dinner. That sounds-”

“Totally inedible?”

“I was gonna say good, actually. Me and May ended up just ordering pizza most nights.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re allowed to eat pizza.”

Peter looked up, his brow creased. “You’re not?”

“Maybe twice a year. Dad insists on being healthy because he needs to be fit for... work.”

Right, because saving the world is called ‘work’ in this house. “I see… Is it, uh… What’s it like being Mister Stark’s daughter?”

MJ stroked a hand over Flash’s bed cover, feeling the fabric as if for the first time. “‘Lotta scares, ‘lotta tears. Not a lot of privacy. But it’s good, overall. Money’s never been a problem, we can do whatever we want… but that’s got a weird habit of making you crazy. I mean, just look at Dad.”

Peter smiled quickly. “May always says it’s better to be rich than poor.”

“You’ve probably never been rich.”

“Well, you’ve probably never been poor.” A beat of silence passed before Peter realised what he’d said. “Oh my god I didn’t mean to say that!” he blurted. “That was so rude, I’m so sorry.”

The corners of MJ’s mouth turned upwards. “I didn’t realise you were capable of saying things that aren’t nice.”

“I’m not!” Peter assured, his voice about an octave too high. “I don’t even think things like that. Really. I’m very sorry.”

“I was impressed. You’re ruining it.”

Peter took a step back, tugging at his shirt’s hem. “Oh, sorry.”

“You really don’t have to keep saying that.”

Peter had to bite back his instinctive response, which was to apologise yet again, and force himself to settle for, “Okay…”

MJ studied him for a moment, her hand still running over the fabric of Flash’s duvet. “You want to say it again, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

Then a very unexpected sound filled the room: MJ’s laugh. The longer it went, the harder it was for Peter not to join in, though more out of nerves than anything else.

“You’re weird.” MJ tucked her legs up and crossed them on the bed.

“I know.”

They lapsed into another silence. This one much more comfortable than the last. MJ broke it, speaking just before Peter could excuse himself from the room. “Why did he say that?”

“Hm?” Peter furrowed his brow.

“Flash, in his letter. ‘Because there’s MJ. And all my hopes are pinned on MJ who I don’t know and doesn’t know me.’ Why would he write that?”

“I don’t- I mean…” Peter trailed off and shrugged. MJ turned away, hiding her face as she tried to mask her obvious disappointment. He couldn’t leave her like that, the reason he was doing this whole thing was to make it easier for the family. And she looked so sad, back turned and shoulders hunched as she hugged herself. “Well maybe…”

The second he spoke, MJ turned back to face him.

“I mean, I don’t know for sure, but he always thought that if you guys were closer-”

“We weren’t close. At all.”

“No, no, no, exactly. And so he always used to say that he wished that he was… He wanted to be.”

MJ looked down, fiddling her hands in her lap. “So, you and Flash, you would talk about me?”

“Sometimes. If he brought it up, I- I never brought it up obviously. He just- Flash thought that you were awesome.”

“Awesome? He said that?” MJ’s eyes lit up with a light that Peter hadn’t seen in weeks, maybe even brighter than he’d ever seen before.

“Definitely.”

“How?”

“Um, well… Okay, so, when you know the answer in a decathlon competition you get this look on your face like… Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and everytime it happens it’s like you’re letting the audience in on the secret.” Peter stopped, scared that he was going to frighten MJ away.

But the exact opposite happened. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at Peter, shimmering from the ceiling light and swimming with tears. “He said that?”

Peter nodded quickly. “And he knew that you go to detention just to sketch people in crisis,” he couldn’t help but chuckle. MJ did too, nodding along and waiting for Peter to continue. “And he liked how you always carry a book with you. Even to gym class.”

“That’s true,” MJ laughed.

“But he never knew you how to tell you, so… He just… he didn’t know where to start.” Peter sat next to her on the bed, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Did he say anything else?”

“About you?”

MJ looked away quickly. “I don’t even really care anyway-”

“No! He- He said lot’s of things, I’m just trying to think of the best ones. So, um… Here’s one: he thought you looked really pretty- Er, I mean it looked  _ pretty cool _ when you had those red streaks in your hair.”

“He did?”

“And he’d always wonder how you learned to just speak your mind like all the world just… doesn’t care.”

MJ shuffled closer, her fingertips brushing against the side of Peter’s hand. He wasn’t sure if she noticed or not. “He just seemed so far away. It’s… it’s like I don’t know anything. I didn’t know  _ anything _ about my own brother.”

“But you did, I mean… You must have a thousand stories about him. Like… Like where did his nickname come from?”

“He never told you?”

“Nope. But I always wanted to know.”

“Well, when Mum and Dad adopted us I didn’t want to go by my full name. It was Dad who came up with MJ. Anyway, Flash got jealous and wanted a nickname too. At the time he was really into ‘The Flash’ comics.”

Peter grinned. “No way. I thought it’d be, like, something  _ cool. _ ”

“That’s what he wanted people to think, but he was just a huge nerd.”

Peter couldn’t hold back a laugh any longer, their voices mixing together until neither could laugh anymore. And then, swept up in the moment, Peter made his biggest mistake yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peter what'd you dooo?
> 
> i mean i know but still XD


End file.
